Chapitre 58: ### Chapter 58: If You Have the Guts, Come Fight Me One-on-One
"Is Richard seriously injured?"
In the stadium's medical room, Alvin asked.
"It's not serious. He has a strained right sternocleidomastoid muscle and a slight neck sprain. No bones are injured. He just needs to wear a neck brace and rest for a few days, and he should be fine," Dr. Earl said as he worked.
"That punch from Anthony was pretty tricky. Most people wouldn't be able to defend against it. You did well, Richard," Alvin said with a smile.
"I didn't expect his secret weapon to be an uppercut. That punch was as powerful as my jab. Luckily, my reaction speed was faster, or getting hit on the chin could have been really bad," Richard said, lying on the bed and touching his chin with lingering fear. "Such a handsome chin can't afford to get injured."
"Heh, Richard, I think getting your chin injured isn't that bad. They call you 'Little Morrison,' right? Morrison had his chin broken twice. If you also..." Paul started to say.
"Get lost!" Richard said, his face darkening before Paul could finish.
"Hmph, fine, I'll leave. Alvin, it's getting dark, and Richard is injured. We don't have to go back tonight, do we?" Paul chuckled.
"Let's rest here for the night," Alvin agreed.
"Ha ha, that's great! Richard, thank you so much!" Paul exclaimed happily, shaking Richard's hand.
Richard forced a smile. "Alvin, it's okay. My neck isn't that bad. I can rest a bit and then we can leave."
"No way!" Paul shouted. "Your neck is injured. How can you ride in a car? The jostling could make it worse. For a boxer, the neck is too important. Even a small issue can affect your career. You can't take that risk. Right, Alvin?"
"Paul's right, Richard. Your injury is important. We'll rest in Philadelphia for a day," Alvin said.
Paul started laughing strangely, shaking his shoulders like a gorilla. Richard rolled his eyes and closed them, ignoring Paul.
"Richard, want to go out and check out some girls? I heard it can help with neck pain," Paul said with a mischievous grin.
"Get lost!"
"Fine, fine. I'll go have some fun, while someone can only lie in bed. Heh," Paul said as he cheerfully walked away.
Once everyone left, Richard took out his phone and sent a message: "The match is over. One more win. Wait for me to come back and celebrate."
---
After resting in Philadelphia for a day, Richard's neck felt much better the next morning. He could easily move his head without the sharp pain he felt the day before.
The group boarded a small bus and left Philadelphia. They had done well on this trip, with Richard and Paul both winning another match.
Richard's professional record now stood at 5 wins, 5 victories, and 3 KOs, ranking him 487th in the overall organization. This ranking previously belonged to Anthony Tave, who had a record of 7 wins with no losses.
Paul, with 4 wins, 4 KOs, had also broken into the top 500. Besides improving their rankings, they both received their first prize money from a professional match.
Typically, professional boxers don't earn money from their first two or even four matches. Richard fought his first four matches without pay, but this time, he received a fee.
The appearance fee for this match came from ticket sales, video broadcasts, and sponsorships. Each winner earned $5,000. After deducting team shares for Alvin and Dr. Earl, Richard took home $3,800, making a small profit.
Overall, it was a good outcome, despite injuring his chin. Richard sighed. He needed to be more cautious in future matches and study his opponents more thoroughly to avoid missing their hidden strengths.
"Richard, hey Richard," Paul called from the front. "Did you know Mayweather also lives in the Bronx?"
Richard looked over. Mayweather was in the car, chatting with Paul. "I knew that. When did you move here, Mayweather?"
"After the Olympics last year, we moved from Niagara Falls to the North Side. It's more convenient for matches here," Mayweather explained. He had won a bronze medal in the flyweight division at the Olympics last year.
"Ha ha, that's great! The Bronx used to only have Richard and me as good boxers. Now we have you too. So, we have three boxing champions: me as the heavyweight champion, you as the lightweight champion, and Richard as the light heavyweight champion. Brooklyn only has Tyson and Riddick Bowe," Paul said, grinning and not feeling embarrassed at all.
Mayweather chuckled and glanced at Richard. "Paul, you train with Richard. Which of you is better?"
"Well..." Paul scratched his face and waved his arm. "Of course, it's me. Don't believe me? Ask Richard. Richard, which of us is better? Hey, why aren't you saying anything? Are you unconvinced? If you have the guts, come fight me one-on-one!"
Richard flipped him off. "See, he doesn't dare to fight!"
"Ha ha ha~"
---
Back in New York, after two more days of rest, Richard's chin injury healed. News of the match also made it into the newspapers.
In that match, Richard, Paul, and Mayweather had the most outstanding performances.
Mayweather had entered the professional boxing scene in November the year before and had won 14 matches, maintaining an undefeated record. He was considered a future lightweight champion.
Paul had transitioned to professional boxing the previous year, also winning four matches, all by KO. This time, he successfully KO'd veteran Mike Dixon. The media praised him, saying he had comprehensive skills, good physical qualities, and powerful punches, similar to early Tyson's style. He was called the brightest newcomer in the heavyweight division.
Paul had been grinning all day, almost overjoyed.
There was even more coverage about Richard. This time, he defeated not an unknown opponent but Anthony Tave, an Olympic bronze medalist. Previously, Anthony Tave was considered the most promising contender for the light heavyweight championship, but he lost to Richard.
The media dug into Richard's background and found he was only 20 years old, had been boxing for less than five years, and had turned professional in December of the previous year. Yet, he managed to defeat the brilliant Anthony.
"A surprising victory. Richard is considered the most promising white boxer of the year." - The New York Post
"After defeating Montell, he defeated Anthony Tave. Richard Brad proved his strength with this match. Maybe he'll become the next Morrison, but he shouldn't be arrogant, indulgent, and must protect his chin." - American Express
"With his handsome looks, powerful punches, super quick reflexes, and devastating jabs like Sonny Liston, he's a prince to the audience and a nightmare to his opponents." - New York Daily News
"Why are they all positive reviews? Aren't there any constructive opinions or criticisms?" Richard put down the newspaper, feeling a bit disappointed.
He had read these newspapers several times. They were full of superficial praise without any professional analysis. It showed he hadn't caught the attention of real boxing industry experts yet. He needed to keep working hard.
Richard stood up, twisted his neck, and felt that his injuries had healed. He decided to cause some trouble. He picked up his phone and sent a message to Bündchen.
"Want to make love tonight?"
"Ugh, pervert, hurry over."
"Got it!"
Richard smiled and drove off.
"Richard, Richard!" Shortly after he left, a car stopped at the door, and Andy leaned against the car door, shouting.
"What is it?" Susan asked, coming out with a cigarette in her mouth and holding a deck of cards.
"Is Richard here?"
"He's not. If you need him, go to the gym tomorrow."
"Okay."
Beep beep—the car drove off again.
"They didn't even say thanks. These gang leaders are so rude," Susan complained to her friends.
"Yeah, totally."
"Come on, play your card!"
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone